


Height Difference

by ectochoir



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi is very small, M/M, micro/macro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectochoir/pseuds/ectochoir
Summary: Ailments and afflictions in the Metaverse can be dangerous, but this one seems like a pretty “small” issue compared to the rest.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 1
Kudos: 107





	Height Difference

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by @sugardazednsfw on twitter and the absolutely incredible art he did for day 2 of kinktober. :’) tiny Akechi..... hhhot
> 
> you can view the art here

“Okay, okay, fuck. Cut it out.  _ Clearly _ , it’s not working.” Goro sputters angrily as Haru casts her third Amrita Shower over him. The mist is almost suffocating around him, thick droplets of moisture clinging to his skin and threatening to drown him. He groans and runs a hand through his soaked hair as he half-heartedly clutches the lapel of his princely white and red outfit to his chest to cover his modesty. It doesn’t fit him very well anymore, but he’d rather not be completely vulnerable in front of the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

“Noir.” Akira’s voice is firm as he places a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezes, seemingly snapping her out of her panicked state and pulling her a step backward. “Whatever this is, it doesn’t seem to be a regular ailment. Calm down. If it’s like all the others, it’ll pass.” He offers her a small, comforting smile. “Can you go help Queen with keeping a lookout?” Haru gasps and nods, flushing pink as Akira points out her overreaction and hurries off to regroup with the rest of the team.

Akira kneels, and Goro feels the floor shake as his foot falls heavy beside him. “Crow, you doing okay?” His voice makes Goro’s teeth rattle in his head.

“As good as I can be for someone who’s six fucking inches tall, Joker,” he spits back up at him from his diminutive new height. Akira sighs and reaches out, placing a hand flat on the floor for Goro to step up into. The brunette gives him a withering glare, but fills the silent request, holding onto Akira’s thumb to balance himself. “The fuck was that shadow, anyway? I’ve never seen one like that.” He grumbles and Akira shrugs in response as he scoops up Goro’s princely thief costume and tucks it under his arm.

“Oracle’s still trying to figure it out. For now, we should get you to a safe room. I’ve already asked the others to try and track the shadow down and do some recon from a safe distance. Usually, ailments pass once the shadow that inflicted them is killed, so if they can catch it, you should go back to normal.” He lifts his free hand, the one not providing a supporting platform for Goro to hold onto, to his mouth and tugs at his glove with his teeth. Goro watches as he works it down his palm and slips it off his fingers, before holding it out. “Here, since your clothes didn’t shrink with you.” Goro scoffs and takes it. It’s heavy, like hefting a weighted blanket over him, but he drags it up and wraps it around himself the best he can as Akira rests his hand against his chest, palm up, and begins striding to the nearest safe room.

It’s a strange experience, being so small and feeling so vulnerable. Goro tries to stand in Akira’s hand, gripping the lapel of his coat for balance, but the bounce in his regular-sized step is a massive tremor to Goro’s balance and he stumbles, landing on his rear and nearly losing his grip on the glove. He huffs, opting instead to sit cross legged in Akira’s palm, resting his back against his chest. Akira’s quiet as they walk, and Goro pauses as he notices a heavy thrum against his back. He presses back a little harder against the leather coat’s padding and feels it again. Akira’s heartbeat. It’s elevated, probably due to nerves or adrenaline. They’ve never seen this ailment before, and anything unknown in the Metaverse can often be dangerous.

A sudden stop causes Goro to lunge forward, tumbling over and nearly rolling off of the hand entirely. He opens his mouth to yell up at Akira when the cold, familiar feeling of a cognitive doorway tickles his skin. It’s as if they walk through a wall of water that doesn’t leave any trace of moisture, a sense of cold lingering on the skin. Goro feels it sink through to his bones and he shivers, trying to pull Akira’s glove a little higher on his body to warm himself.

Once they’re in the safe room, Akira makes a beeline for the table in the centre of the room, dropping the gently lowering his hand for Goro to step down, which he does. Dragging the heavy red glove is a chore, though, and it’s not providing him much warmth, so he leaves it in Akira’s hand, moving to sit on the table with his legs tucked neatly under him, trying to cover his modesty with only his hands. He hears a chuckle from above him and bares his teeth.

“Don’t you dare laugh! This is a bad enough day as it is without you finding humour in my suffering.” When Akira’s gaze flicks from him to the abandoned glove, asking silent questions, he continues. “Your glove is too heavy for me to haul around, loathe as I am to admit it.” He turns his head upward to glower at Akira, only to find him pulling his glove back on and staring down at him with a raised brow and a mirthful look in his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just... pretty cute like this.” He says with an infuriatingly genuine grin, placing his hands on his hips. “It shouldn’t last long now that we’ve put some distance between us and that shadow.” He drags out a chair and sits, propping his chin up on the back of his hand and staring down at Goro. “Actually... you’re  _really_ cute like this.” The look Akira gives him suddenly makes Goro painfully aware how small he is.

“ _Kurusu_... ” His tone is warning, but he feels his voice crack as Akira reaches out a gloved handand gently uses the back of a knuckle to stroke up and down his ribs briefly.

“Fuck, you’re so tiny, Akechi.” He mumbles, his gaze hazy and dark with something akin to intrigue. “You’re probably only about... what, six inches...?”

“Far too small for you to do what you’re thinking about.” It takes all of Goro’s strength to shove back Akira’s hand, but he manages it. He looks triumphant for a moment before realizing Akira’s now staring down at Goro’s lap. Curse him and his infuriating ability to be observant at the worst of times. His hands drop again to cover his crotch, trying to smother the half-hard arousal pressing against his thigh, or at least hide it from view. Akira grins and takes the opportunity to reach out again, sliding a gloved fingertip down Goro’s spine, making him gasp and arch his back away from the touch.

“Nothing like that, but it might be kind of hot just to, touch you, y’know?” He sounds embarrassed and Goro shoots him a withering look.

“Pervert.”

Akira simply laughs.

“Yeah, but you knew that already,” he replies as he gently tucks his fingers against Goro’s back and rear, earning an offended squawk as he scoops his tiny partner back up into his hand, cradling him in his palm. Goro turns his head to avoid eye contact, pressing his hands harder down into his crotch. “Goro... don’t hide from me.” Akira says sweetly, and Goro shivers at the tone, shaking his head.

“You’re so embarrassing. I’m not just going to give you whatever you want, you know.” He snaps, shoulders hunched. He watches from his peripheral as Akira sighs and smiles down at him, his fingers shifting, and suddenly he’s making a rather tight ring with his thumb and middle finger, squeezing Goro with just the right amount of pressure to hold him there, but not crush him. His palm is still supporting Goro’s spine, but he finds himself pulled back into a lying position, his legs dangling down over the edge of the hand. He swears and squirms, but Akira has his arms pinned to his torso and it’s as if a tree of only moderate weight has contorted around him, holding him fast.

“God, Goro. Don’t squirm like that, it’s too cute.” Goro hears from above him as Akira leans down to inspect him more closely. He can feel his breath on his skin and it raises goosebumps as he resumes wriggling.

“Put me down, Kurusu! Let me go right n—aah!” His complaints die in his throat as Goro feels a gloved fingertip slide up the inside of his thighs, pushing his legs apart and nudging enthusiastically at his ass and perineum. “S-Stop it, you  brat ,”  he groans as Akira’s fingertip retracts and he feels it nudge at his hands, which he is desperately trying to keep clutched around his erection, hiding it from view.

“C’mon, stubborn. Let me see you,” Akira purrs, pushing his hands aside. He doesn’t have the strength at this size to fight him off, and he has to admit that considering the difference in power between them at this moment makes his dick twitch traitorously. Goro groans as he feels that soft, gloved finger slide back up his thighs and come to a stop at his cock, stroking it with such determined tenderness. He knows that one wrong move, and the consequences could be dire, but the way Akira touches him is so full of care and caution that he feels his body go limp in the restricting grip he’s held in as he moans. Curse his body, betraying him like this.

“F-Fuck, you’re the worst.” Goro growls out, though the edge in his voice is quickly fading. There’s just  so much sensation all at once as Akira’s fingers slide up and down his thighs and over his hips. His breath hitches and he squirms again as Akira presses down ever so lightly on his abdomen. He wants  more . “Shit... wait, wait. Let me up.” Immediately, the fingers binding his torso loosen, and Akira’s gaze turns worried and doting.

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” He asks hurriedly, as he moves to cup his hands and help Goro sit up. He waves off the concern, pushing away the fingertip Akira uses to try and brush his bangs out of his face.

“I’m fine. I just... you’re teasing me.” His face is red but he ignores the heat under his skin rapidly bubbling to the surface, sitting up on his knees in Akira’s palm. “Come here.” His tiny fists ball in the fabric of Akira’s glove, the hand he’s not sitting in, and pull it in close, pushing down and positioning him so just the pad of his index finger is held out and upward. Goro ignores Akira’s grin as he pulls that finger between his thighs and his grip on the glove tightens. Finally, he drops all pretence of shame, letting out a soft moan as he ruts against it. The fabric is smooth, but with his size, the texture feels tougher against his skin and he shudders at the sensation of it as he drags his dick slowly across it.

“Shit, Goro...” Akira whispers as he looks down at him, and Goro huffs, turning his gaze away and casting it down to the floor. He rolls his hips again and groans.

“Th-this is your fault. You should take some responsibility.” Another pitchy moan escapes him as he presses against the finger under him, gripping it with both hands and grinding his hips down. Akira’s fingertip settles down the middle of his ass and the fabric rubs firmly against his balls, making him tremble. “Fuck, fuck...” Goro’s breath catches in his hand as his hips rock faster, and he feels Akira move his finger just slightly in time with his thrusts, giving him as much friction as possible. It’s so  much all at once. He pants, his hair falling in his eyes as he leans back just slightly, rocking his hips faster. “Please... m-more...” he moans even as he can feel himself reaching his limit, gripping the fabric in his hands even tighter. He hears Akira chuckle above him.

“There’s not much more I can give you like this, Goro. Go on, cum for me, beautiful boy,” Akira purrs. It’s as if the command turns a key in a lock somewhere inside him and Goro trembles as his orgasm suddenly washes over him and he whimpers pitifully as he cums hard against Akira’s hand, shooting it down the length of his gloved index finger.

There’s a moment of quiet where the only noise is Goro’s admittedly tiny pants as he catches his breath.

Then there’s a bunch of noise, all at once. There’s a pop as Goro feels something inside him change suddenly, and Akira shouts in pain as the detective prince’s weight crushes his hand and causes the flimsy table to collapse out from under them, dragging them both down to the floor. Goro lands askew in a tangle of table legs and thief legs and glances up in shock, a far smaller distance than he needed to a moment ago, at Akira who stands, dusting himself off, holding out Goro’s pristine white prince outfit and grinning sheepishly.

“I guess they got that shadow.”


End file.
